


The Wolf and The Hunter

by MischiefHowl



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Gen, I just love supernatural Oswald okay?, Vampires, Violence, Werewolves, gobblepot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 01:23:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5987389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MischiefHowl/pseuds/MischiefHowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James, The Hunter had to set this one out for now. The werewolf and vampire were just to vicious for him to intervene. (Van Helsing-ish AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wolf and The Hunter

Oswald had long felt a connection with the Hunter he proudly stood by as the two fought and hunted together. They both shared a darkness about them. Only Jim seemed to have more of a handle on it... perhaps because he was human.

He on the other hand was not. Not fully, nor did he claim to be. His scent gave it away, no matter how much he hides it with his lack of 'human' hygiene. It was there. The earthy smell, almost like the breath of a forest. He hid it best he could from Jim and anyone. 

Hunters killed his kind. And he knew if his old friend found out-- The shudder of fear went through his spine. The wolf within could take him, he was sure. But one silver bullet to his heart or head and he would be nothing but a corpse. Or worse, have his wolf skin be torn from his muscle and bone, from his being, letting him die as less of a wolf..

It was a horror that he didn't want. Not until Gotham knew and feared his name. Any of his name. But instead here he was, glaring at the moon. Jim was not here thank the stars but his hatred for the one named Galavan still burned.

The blood drinking filth had killed his wolf mother, his dear mother, and got his claws into Jim like some puppet. It sicked him. Could Jim not see a vampire using him? He could feel the soreness in his teeth as they threatened to become sharp.

Werewolves were nothing like the small pup Oswald looked. They were bigger, muscular. Were much more prideful.. and ate Hunters for lunch, not followed them like a common dog. Oswald only shown who he was when he wanted business done. Than he showed he was indeed a wolf just like them. If not more vicious than them. 

His eyes look down at the vampire that grinned cruelly at Oswald. The scent was what caused the rage. He could smell it and worse see it. Some pelt that he knew so well. That he smelled when he was born all the way to months ago. The beautiful silver and blonde fur of his mother that would be around him. Until his green-blue eyes opened to see her for the first time. That she was proud that her son would be a wolf like her.

It was a fifty/fifty chance where Werewolves mate and their offspring would be born either a wolf or a human. She would've been proud if he was human to but still would be worried for her pup.  
But here he was. Alone truly. No pack to be part of. He was rejected due to his size and.. well eventually his love for a Hunter. If anything, he brought shame to his kind. And disgust. But he wanted to be with Jim, always hunting. After all, those that beg for mercy never once listened to Oswald's pleas as they beat him in his younger days.

He was thankful Jim wasn't here. All he'd see was two monsters fight. The only resemblance would be Oswald's slight futures. And the leg of course.. Galavan would just look more like a demon.  
And shifting began. Oswald stood tall, taking his stylish coat from his body and his suit. He had gone through enough suits to know that it wasn't fun explaining how his suit was shredded and how he had to get another.

His finger nails and toe nails becoming claws. Teeth growing sharp and he growled in pain as his pale skin seemed to break off like some sort of meat costume. His claws tearing the skin which instead of revealing muscle, revealed the beautiful black fur beneath. Soft by the touch, but strong enough to protect the wolf's skin from many bullets and knives besides silver.

Galavan's seemed easier. "Be sure not to hurt your little paws, Penguin.." His fangs came out and his cloths seemed to open up to large wings. The one of few advantages he had to this mongrel. The other was the weakness that stayed with Oswald, besides his now dead mother who was in a dumpster where all disgusting mutts belonged. His body took to the air, now looking more like a demon than any human, wings beating at the Gotham's wind, as if showing who owned the sky.

The werewolf stood on all fours at first, breathing in the cool night air. He had chosen here, where Jim would not find them. At least not until they were the beasts that they were meant to be. The wings were what angered him more. It was a cheating way to win. He had to break one of them first chance he had.

The vampire wasted no time as he dove down, catching the werewolve's fur in his talons and shredding his back. The howl of pain was like music to his ears. While he failed in killing the little Wayne, he won't fail in the delight of torturing Oswald to death. His claws would bury and tear the wolf's fur. While he couldn't tell the blood that came out. He could see the dark and delicious liquid that poured onto the ground. He would make sure to drink him dry while he was dying-

Oswald was in pain. He would take his leg being broken again. The claws always found him, tearing into his body like a hot knife through butter. His teeth would find the vampire sometimes, but he couldn't get close to the wing. He's bidden his time. Oswald was many things. That included patient. He was waiting. Waiting for the pride and dangerous move that would screw Theo over.  
Jim had arrived, unknown to the wolf but known to the vampire who could easily hear the human's heartbeat from the distance. Good. A little hunter that didn't know who they were. And a little pup that thinks he has a chance. It was perfect.

James Gordon was a hunter like his father. As well as a detective. And here he saw two beasts fighting. He couldn't tell in the darkness who they were, much to his annoyance. But they were monsters that he had to finish off. A vampire that drinks blood of humans, and a werewolf that eats and slaughters people. For now he allowed the fight to continue, getting in their way would only prove suicidal unless he was ready to shoot them both at the same time in fatal areas.

The werewolf finally, after what felt like hours of the claws and teeth. He used all of his strength and willpower to leap up and grab hold of the overconfident vampire with his clawed paws. Dragging him down and going where he was aiming all this time- the left wing. His claws helped him climb up quickly and he tore at the leathery wings, shredding through the thin skin like paper and snapping the wing bone. Hearing the yowl of pain made his own pain numb and fill him with glee. Even when he was torn off and thrown hard onto the floor.

Oswald hit the asphalt hard, hearing a sickening snap made him more worried what broke inside of him. But the weight that was thrust upon him was what made the pain come a hundred times over as the now lame vampire intentionally landed on Oswald, making sure to hurt and hopefully break the wolf's back. "You disgusting garbage! How dare you stoop so low!" He stomps on Oswald's back, causing howls as the wolf tried in vain to pull away from the wrath.

Only than did shots ring out, breaking the silence of the night. Theo looked and saw Jim shooting at them. It took him long enough.. Useless hunter. He looks at his wing that was half limp at his side. And with one final claw into the mutt, did he flee. Using his legs to run and change back when no nosy Hunter was around.

The wolf was bloody, cornered, and at his old friend's mercy. Through his own blood scent could he smell him. He felt the hunger to kill and devour, the instinct to fight to the end. Cornered and injured animals were always the most dangerous and right now Oswald was no exception. His paws paw at the ground, attempting to crawl away.

He heard the tapping of boots against the pavement drawing closer. James Gordon seemed to be taking his time with this pace. He knew the wolf couldn't flee. And it frightened Oswald. His ears flatten against his head, growling to warn him he was still dangerous and will bite if he had to. His tail lashing.

A pause of footsteps for a minute. Until they resumed again, gun cocking and the wolf knew it was already aimed at his back without looking. The smell of silver drifted to his nose which he swore burned the inside of his nostrils and lungs. The silver was death, always death. His kind feared it among everything. They can use silver and even hold it but have it in them, in their bodies from blades or bullets it would either cause severe allergic reactions or just kill them. 

His courage finally caught up to him and he turned to the barrel of the gun pointed at his face. The trigger so close to pulling. All fear came with it and he couldn't help but whimper, whimper for mercy, whimper for his mother, whimper for his old friend, even whimper for the kind mortal riddler, Ed. His tail drooped. Ears flatten more. His kingdom was broken anyway, he would have no way to rebuild it now--

**"How long?"**

The voice was cold but also concerning. It knocked him off guard and he tilted his head with confusion. The need to fight drained out of him for a minute as the man behind the gun continued.

"How long did you hope to keep **THIS** from me, Cobblepot?!" He held something with his free hand. He held it out so Oswald could get a better look at it while he kept his finger on the trigger, ready to shoot him right into the brain.

His blood ran cold. There was his jacket that he had stripped out of before the fight. He now wished he would just die and be done with it. James Gordon KNOWS now. There was no more hiding, no more games, not even favors. What Hunter took favors or pathetic friendships from a mangy beast?

"Did you really believe that you could hide this from me? I knew it from how you smelled. No matter how much you hid it. I at first assumed it was because you worked for and under Werewolves. You didn't resemble one at all, but here you are. Looking at me, ready to attack at first chance... I assume that vampire you were fighting was Galavan"

The wolf could only nod a yes at that, whining as he tried to stand. Only for his paws to slide out from under him. He was no longer afraid to die. He was ready to die if it meant ripping Galavan's heart out and eating it before he did. But James was here and he knew who he was. He was afraid. But also afraid of what the instincts told him. Eat, kill, destroy. Hunt. He wanted to hunt Jim. 

"Did you plan to die facing him? Why? Does your goal to become King of Gotham no longer matter? Oswald your life matters more than that but since you think it doesn't! Prepare yourself"

\---

James Gordon had been hunting these violent beasts for as long as his teenage years. He knew them by scent while other.. normal people couldn't. The werewolves were always the most powerful next to vampires. He had been unable to kill many in his time. But those he did, he made sure were dead. Oswald was no different. James was just in awe at the fact that he hid it so well, it nearly convinced Jim himself that the smell was just from those he snitched or worked with. Butch being one of them. But at times he compared Butch to a Teddy-bear than a Lycanthrope.

Oswald wasn't like the wolves, no pack, no pride not fully, if he had the wolf pride he wouldn't have trailed after James like a puppy... pun unintended. He looked over the black pelt and remembered one time that he saw a wolf this close. Only it wasn't unconscious. It was clawing at him, narrowly missing as Jim held fast on the tree branch he managed to grab hold of when he noticed the hunting yellow eyes in the bush. The gray fur and sharp white teeth. All intention to kill.. and the gun had no silver in it. He was hoping against hope that the sun would come.. but the branch was cracking, bringing him closer to the jaws and claws reach-

It was than that the black fur, almost like night, had burst out of the bushes at a speed of a locomotive and slammed into the grey wolf who was taken by surprise. The werewolves fought hard against one another. Black and grey fur flying..

The branch snapped and Jim fell onto the leaves and thankfully soft dirt below. The black wolf had given him just enough time to flee. He had always guessed it was because the black wolf wanted what the grey had cornered so easy. 

Yet here he was staring down at the same black pelt he couldn't forget.. even with the blood that soaked it. He recalled Oswald being beat up a few days after. And just smiled saying that someone didn't agree with his sass or tongue. But was it more than that? 

He let it go into the back of his mind and as the wolf lunged at him. The trigger went and the bullet shot out-

\---

 

Oswald's eyes look up tiredly at the ceiling above him. His vision coming into view but the soreness came to when he moved. "Hey hey, don't move around to much. Your ribs are still healing" Came the quick and lighter voice of Ed who smiled down at him as soon as he came into view. "Hey my feathered friend."

James came into the room. "He regained consciousness?"

Jim? Ed? He couldn't remember clearly what had happened. "I'm dead aren't I? Well, who knew I'd see you guys here"

"Over-dramatic. No you are alive. James brought you here sound asleep in his arms. You look like you had been run over by a train."

Memories slowly drifted back. Him going in and out of consciousness. He was carried and he remembered being cold, even wrapped in his furry coat. He remembered seeing Jim, carrying him. He also remembered the shot going off.

He was alive though. That's what mattered. But than the realization returned. Jim knew he was-

"Oswald. You could've told me who you were. I am a Hunter yes, but I only kill when I know there is no choice. You have killed only when you had to or fought when you had no choice"  
"But Galavan--"

"Was a monster. You committed human crimes that will be judged by the law, but you have not committed any supernatural crime."

Oswald killed people in his wolf and human form. He loved it, loved tying up lose ends and making sure no one discovered them. Wolves do clean up better than any other being. He was no exception. When he was done, there was only some blood and sometimes bullets he spits out.

"Thank you, Jim. I owe you one.." He owed him his life once again. A debt he had to repay sometime. 

"But. If we are to take down Galavan, we must do it together. At the justice of the law"

"Law? There are no laws in Gotham! I will kill him. There is no other way" He growls out only to hold his sides. 

"Oswald you are no match to kill a vampire in this condition"

"He killed my mother, Jim. I must crush his head in my jaws." There was no exception, no way to change Oswald's mind. What Oswald wants, Oswald gets. He would destroy that lowly bat if he has to do it on his own.

"Than what do we do, Penguin? That we can agree on?"

"... I think I may have an idea" Ed chimed in with a smile on his face..

Thus began the story of The Hunter, James Gordon and Oswald Cobblepot, The Wolf. The story that would go down in history.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. What inspired this? crowstiel on Tumblr had made a glorious gif AU of a Van Helsingish verse and I though: Yes! I must write this!  
> The gifs are here for those curious: http://crowstiel.tumblr.com/post/139067549793/werewolfoswald-and-hunterjim-van-helsing-ish


End file.
